more
about Potts. It will have been inferred that he was objectionable. For
the fact, he was objectionable in every way: as a human being, a man, a
citizen, a member of the Slocum County bar, and a veteran of our late
civil conflict. He was shiftless, untidy, a borrower, a pompous
braggart, a trouble-maker, forever driving some poor devil into
senseless litigation. Moreover, he was blithely unscrupulous in his
dealings with the Court, his clients, his brother-attorneys, and his
fellow-men at large. When I add that he was given to spells of hard
drinking, during which he became obnoxious beyond the wildest possible
dreams of that quality, it will be seen that we of Little Arcady were
not without reason for wishing him away.

He had drifted casually in upon us after the war, accompanied somewhat
elegantly by one John Randolph Clement Tuckerman, an ex-slave. He came
with much talk of his regiment,--a fat-cheeked, florid man of forty-five
or so, with shifty blue eyes and an address moderately insinuating. Very
tall he was, and so erect that he seemed to lean a little backward. This
physical trait, combining with a fancy for referring to himself freely
as "an upright citizen of this reunited and glorious republic, sir!" had
speedily made him known as "Upright" Potts. He was of a slender build
and a bony frame, except in front. His long, single-breasted frock-coat
hung loosely enough about his shoulders, yet buttoned tightly over a
stomach that was so incongruous as to seem artificial. The sleeves of
the coat were glossy from much desk rubbing, and its front advertised a
rather inattentive behavior at table. The Colonel's dress was completed
by drab overgaiters and poorly draped trousers of the same once-delicate
hue. Upon his bald head, which was high and peaked, like Sir Walter
Scott's, he carried a silk hat in an inferior state of preservation.
When he began to drink it was his custom to repair at once to a barber
and submit to having his side-whiskers trimmed fastidiously. Sober, he
seemed to feel little pride of person, and his whiskers at such a time
merely called attention somewhat unprettily to his lack of a chin. His
other possessions were an ebony walking stick with a gold head and what
he referred to in moments of expansion as his "library." This consisted
of a copy of the Revised Statutes, a directory of Cincinnati, Ohio, for
the year 1867, and two volumes of Patent Office reports.

At the time of which I speak t